The Plan
by Singsong
Summary: To deal with the second-coming of Voldemort, Dumbledore enlists the help of uber-wizards. A little bit for everyone.


Putting an elastic on the end of her braid, sixteen year-old Brendolyn Gryffindor was interrupted by a hoot at her window. Looking outside, she saw her owl, Flynn, was finally back from Hogwarts School. Although term had been out for six weeks, one could often find her Uncle Albus there, no matter the date. And this year, it was particularly important that the school was well protected by spells, and charms. Voldemort, You-Know-Who, was back, or at least had regained his previous power. Bren's father, along with her uncle, had been working round the clock lately; he was trying to get the ministry organized to fight the Deatheaters. Her father was quite pleased with the progress although they had to work in secret. Otherwise, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, perfect gentlemen and the personification of an ostrich with its head in the sand, would be outraged.  
  
The window now open, Flynn flew in and hooted loudly as she took the letter off his leg. Opening it at the same time as giving Flynn his treat, Bren flung herself onto the mattress and started reading her uncle's letter.  
  
Dear Brennie,  
  
Preparations for next year are going well. We have one of the largest classes ever coming up, sort of a Magical Baby Boom. However, while discussing how to protect the students in a new way, a way that Voldemort would not expect, Professor McGonagall had a suggestion. Her idea is quite simple, and quite brilliant; why don't you enter the school, as a fifth year?  
  
What lunacy was this? Although, after thinking a moment, Bren also saw the brilliance of the plan. Bren was not well known in the wizarding world, although she had her Order of Merlin, second class; in fact, due to low exposure with other wizarding families, most people assumed the Gryffindor heir was a squib. Privately educated by her parents her whole life, she had never attended school, and very few people knew of her powers. It was intended that she would be protected by ignorance; if no one knew how powerful she was, no one would try to attack her. By entering Hogwarts, as a student no less, she would be like a spy, she could gather information, hear what the students were saying to other students, and help protect them should anything happen. Maybe it wasn't lunacy.  
  
Talk it over with your parents, although I'm sure they'll agree. Send an owl back by tomorrow. Included are the books you will need, although you may already have them. Also, feel free to bring Flynn.  
  
Uncle Albus.  
  
A frown covered Bren's features. No doubt her Uncle had already cleared this with her parents. When she went downstairs to ask her parents, her previous suspicion was verified. Her parents sat at the table, reading the Daily Prophet and eating their toast, hiding their looks of anticipation. When Bren didn't mention the letter at all, her mother lost control.  
  
"Well? Will you go? Oh, Bren, you must! Think of the other children! You can help them! Think of poor Harry Potter, how scared he must be…" she started, and continued to ramble on and on, as Bren drank her tea. She looked across the table at her father, who smirked at her.  
  
"Mother… Mother, stop…" Bren started, but her mother continued about how wonderful Hogwarts is, how lovely the experience would be… "Fine. FINE! I'll go."  
  
September 1st came quickly. Bren had ordered her Hogwarts robes and packed her trunk with her textbooks and her extra reading, with her potion materials and the extra little goodies she could play with. Her parents had given her a new broom, a Lightning Bolt, and she had received a new wand from her Aunt Penelope; a beautiful oak wand, with a center of a dragons eyelash, wound around a phoenix's feather. Standing on platform 9 3\4's, saying goodbye to her parents, she was amazed by all the children running around, creating chaos. Flynn had immediately started hooting loudly, the site of the other owls exciting him.  
  
"Well, write to me, okay. Tell me what the Prophet isn't saying, kay?" She asked her mother. Her mother had started to nod, when suddenly a cold, slithering voice started speaking behind her.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Magnus and Olivia Gryffindor." The voice said. Bren quickly spun around and saw the speaker, a tall, thin, pale man. "And who is this?" He asked, taken aback to see the Gryffindor's daughter.  
  
"This is our daughter, Brendolyn. We're too busy to continue teaching her at home, so she'll be at Hogwarts. Your son at Hogwarts, Lucius?" Her father asked, not bothering to hide the contempt in his voice.  
  
"Of course he is. All the Malfoys are educated properly…" he returned as the train whistle blew.  
  
"Oh, I'm off. By, mother, dad! Don't forget to write!" Bren said, hurrying away from the platform and onto the train with her luggage. She traveled the length of the train, but all compartments were full, until she reached the last two. In one, there were three boys, whispering and cackling, and in the other, there were four boys and two girls, laughing and talking.  
  
"Erm, mind if I join you?" She asked to the happier compartment. All four people smiled and invited her in. After placing her luggage on the racks and letting Flynn out to sit beside her, she introduced herself. "My names Brendolyn Gryffindor," she said to accompanying gasps. "What?"  
  
"You're a Gryffindor?" the red-haired boy said, in complete shock. "A real Gryffindor? As in, Godric Gryffindor?" Bren smiled lightly.  
  
"Yes, of course." She said, laughing. Of course she understood why they were staring, but was it that big a deal; family is just family, after all. "Who are you lot?"  
  
"Umm, I'm Ron Weasley, and this is my sister Ginny, and the twins Fred, and George. That's Hermione Granger, and that's Harry Potter." Bren's eyes squinted a bit at Harry. He didn't look at all powerful. Hermione looked like she was bursting with questions for Bren, and the Weasley's were just staring openly.  
  
"Of course, you're Arthur Weasley's children! You're dad works for the Ministry, right?" Two heads nodded. "Yes, my father talks about him quite often. About Muggle Protection, and the Muggle Artifacts law. Says your dad should be given an award for all the work he does." All four Weasley's started blushing. "Sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you… What year are you in?" Talk continued lightly for half of the journey, until two more identical heads popped into the compartment.  
  
"Brennie! We hoped, when we saw the others, that you'd be here too!" Adam, (or was it Daniel?) Olums' said, while enthusiastically hugging her. She had know the Olum twins since they were all five, and now eleven years later, they were still good friends. But, what others?  
  
"Hey, you guys," She said, indicating to the students in the compartment, "I'll just be a second," she continued, pushing Adam and Daniel out into the hall. Charming the doors so no one would overhear the conversation, she turned to Adam, (or was it Daniel?), and demanded to know what was going on.  
  
"You mean you don't even know? Dumbledore's own niece and you don't…Ow!" He cried out, holding his arm like an injured animal. "Okay, okay, Bren. Yesh, I hope you go to Slytherin, you have the temper… no no! I didn't mean that," he wailed when she began to lift her wand again. "Okay, well, basically, we've seen a lot of underage, qualified wizards on the train. Patrick, Johannes, Mortimer, Caly, Adrienne, Sarah… What's the big Irish blokes name, Adam?" "Sean. No Shen. Maybe, Ben?"  
  
"Ben?" Brendolyn groaned. "Ben O'Ryan?" The twins nodded. Oh no! Bren thought. Like the Olum's, she had known O'Ryan most of her life, as well. Clever and handsome, but also mischievous and hot-tempered, he had been, for the most part, the bane of her existence. Always one step ahead of his parents, O'Ryan had learned to Apparate when he was only thirteen, and would often, secretly, visit Bren at night. Finally, Bren had figured out how too as well, but on her first trip to O'Ryan's she had been caught by Mrs. O'Ryan, and spent an entire month without her wand as punishment. During the month of purgatory, and afterwards, O'Ryan had continued to visit her, and they had become… close. Until, of course, that fateful night, three months ago when they had forgotten silencing charms and had been caught. Her parents had forbidden her to see O'Ryan, and she had agreed to the punishment; she charmed her room so he couldn't Apparate there, and had set the owl's he sent back. Her friend, Josie, had told her that if you could break up with someone and not think about him afterwards, that meant you never cared. So Bren worked herself to the bone for two months, until Josie told her that exhausting ones self to not think of a person didn't mean you ever cared. All the same, Brendolyn did not want to be at Hogwarts with O'Ryan; Brendolyn did not want to disobey her parents; Brendolyn did not want to see him again. She couldn't.  
  
  
  
Ben O'Ryan was quite impressed with Hogwarts castle; he was, however, not impressed with the weather. If he enjoyed sleet and freezing temperatures in late summer, he could have stayed in Ireland, but he had accepted this placement, and he'd see it through, all year, even if the weather sucked the entire time. All around him were children, most of them seven years younger than him and looking up at him with awe, and not a little suspicion. The older 'transfer' students just glanced his way; none really interested in him, or in each other. But, perhaps a little interested in who was the best. Or, perhaps it was that some of them recognized him as the Irish guy who Bren used to date.  
  
He had of course noticed Bren, or moreover, Bren's parents on the platform. Looking, for the entire world, like the supportive, friendly, understanding parents everyone assumed them to be. And maybe they were, and maybe it was just Bren who was a coward. What self-respecting sixteen year-old witch listens to her parents when they forbid her to see her boyfriend. Not that he had expected her to sneak away to be with him; open objection was more Brennie's style, and usually she got her own way because she was strong-willed. Ben certainly didn't blame Magnus Gryffindor for forbidding them to see one another, any father would do that if they'd been woken, terrified, to their daughter muffled… screams, to find her in a position best described as acrobatic. Truthfully Ben suspected that while Magnus did not approve of him, he had been more than surprised when his daughter had agreed, and complied, not to see Ben.  
  
And there she was, standing across the back landing from him, looking as stormy as the weather. No doubt she knew he was here; and no doubt he would be in an argument with her, within thirty minutes. In fact, why wait?  
  
"Hello Bren. Controlling the weather, are you?" I asked. Start off rudely, and half the battles won.  
  
"O'Ryan," she smirked. Why did she have to call me that? I hate it when she… never mind. "I heard you were here, although for the life of me, I can't understand why." At my choked response, she hastened, "Not that you're not clever," she emphasized the word like it was the greatest insult she could hurl, "but you do seem to cause more trouble than you're worth."  
  
"I seem to remember, Ms. Gryffindor," I lowered my voice so Professor McGonagall, now speaking and leading us through the halls to the Great Hall, wouldn't overhear, "a time when you thought me quite worthwhile. Pity your so fickle…" I said, trying to continue, but was cut off.  
  
"Fickle? I did the only thing that would prove that I was not fickle! My father…"  
  
"Your father is a fool!" I whisper-yelled.  
  
"How dare you?" She demanded, the flush in her face rushing towards her eyes, but the sorting had begun and she pretended to watch that, no doubt planning her next words carefully. After a long pause she started again, "My father is a great man, and he deserves my…"  
  
"Your what? Your fear?" She looked away, pretending again to watch the sorting. I noticed McGonagall was watching us as she called out first years names, (Havertroll, Jakov, "Ravenclaw.") "Your homage? Your control?" I said, laying it out.  
  
"My father wants only to keep me safe. If you understood that, you wouldn't question it. My father is a…"  
  
"A fool!" I nearly shouted, cutting her off again. Speaking loudly at each other, at the same time, we continued throughout the rest of the sorting of first years. Now everyone was politely trying not to overhear us, which seemed pointless, since we were openly arguing while Zalatoni, Guise, was sorted into Hufflepuff. Thankfully, Guise didn't seem to notice, he was so relieved to be found worthy of a house at all.  
  
The Headmaster, however, did seem to notice our argument, as he seemed to find it quite amusing. I took a few deep breaths as the sorting of the transfer students began. When Bren's name was called, I grasped her arm and hissed, "We'll finish this later." Bren just smiled back at me, and walked up to the hat.  
  
I think as a Gryffindor by name, I was even more nervous than the first years. It didn't really matter to them which house they were placed in; each house has its attributes to be proud of. However, I had to be a Gryffindor- if I wasn't, I would be shamed. If I were placed into Slytherin, I may end my own life. Hufflepuff might even be worse; they were timid, and typically not very talented. Ravenclaw would… "Please, girl, stop that!" the sorting hat hisses in a low tone. "I decide where you go, not your fears." My body stiffened at his mentioning of fears. I had to be brave to be a Gryffindor. I have to be brave, talented, and honest to be…. "I said shut up! You're worse than your father was. You're too smart to be afraid of your future. Now let's see. Smart, very smart… not to ambitious, so you shouldn't worry about Slytherin. You work hard, but your success is due to talent… Yup, you're a GRYFFINDOR!" Cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table and the from most remaining 'transfer' students, but their cheers were drown-out by my heart, which was still beating wildly.  
  
Sitting between Hermione and Ron, who made a space for me, I watched the rest of the sorting. Sunny Marshall, the craziest girl I'd ever met, was sorted to Gryffindor, as were Adam and Daniel Olum; unfortunately, so was O'Ryan. As he sat down next to Daniel, who glared at him (I may have over- exaggerated some of O'Ryans' less desirable qualities…), he started to make conversation. Disgustingly, by the end of the sorting, Daniel and Ben looked like they had been friends since the womb. At this point Uncle Albus, now Professor Dumbledore, stood up and started to speak: " Welcome students," he began and I tuned him out while he listed items and actions not allowed. "Now, I'd like to introduce our new professors for this year. We'll be starting several new experimental classes, which selected students will participate in. The success of these students will decide whether they become part of our curriculum." Whispers erupted around the Great Hall. "These courses will be extremely hard, and will prepare the selected students for more strenuous magical training." O'Ryan caught my eye and raised his eyebrows, but I could only shrugged. I had no idea where Uncle Albus was going with this. Ben then pointed to his ears, indicating to listen. Sunny and the Olums did not miss the passage; they too decided to listen more intently.  
  
"Your new Defense against the Dark Arts professor, for years 5 to 7, is Miss Arabella Figg, and for years 1-4, is Mr. Calvin Mistlewaite. Madame Pomfrey, our school nurse, will also be teaching Healing Arts. Also, Mr. Scott Invermore will be teaching Natural and Elemental magic." At this point, every head in the Hall snapped up. Witches and wizards who learnt Natural and Elemental magic were the most talented, and sought after, people in the community. Well respected, masters of 'the true craft', as it was named, were among the most powerful magicians anywhere. However, no matter the exhilaration she felt at this announcement, it sent Bren's shackles up. A Master of the true craft was often dangerous to control, and it was impossible to know if someone was a Master or a Mastered, meaning controlled by the true craft. She could see O'Ryan was watching the new professor with squinted eyes. "These new classes will be held in the evenings, and are not voluntary; if you're chosen, you will attend, even if you begin to fail. The students selected for these classes will be informed tonight by their Head of House. Now, let's eat!"  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, review please. Ideas are welcome, so are flames.  
  
Please direct any reviews to  
  
Theoriginalsingsong@yahoo.net 


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